Shanghaied
by dragonmactir
Summary: A case leading to the docks leads to a knock on the noggin and a kidnapping for our favorite police duo. Who has them and why? LASSIET! DEAL WITH IT! :-)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of _Psych_ and its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other Psych-Os like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

 **Rating:** T+

 **Spoilers:** Few, but possible at any point through entire series

 **A/N:** Sorry for the delay on my _**Psych**_ stuff, but I've been having trouble with _Breakin' In Slow-Motion_ , probably because my first talk with my doc about the seizures was not my first talk with my doc, so I didn't know how to go back in time and make it a first talk. I don't remember now what my first talk with a psychiatrist was like. I'm also having trouble with a scene in the next chapter of _**A Quiet Normal Life**_ , which is slowing me down on everything, which is why I've been posting Captain Hook stories lately - with the exception of the short story, which I wrote within an hour or two last Saturday, they were all already written, though I have a long way to go on the new ongoing and don't know whether it'll work. Now that I know when I'm going in the hospital for my longterm EGG to find out for sure whether this is epilepsy, I'm hoping that _Breakin'_ will be easier to write and maybe even wrap up. I do really like that story, but it isn't an easy one to write. Anyway, I got to thinking while looking over endless paragraphs about Captain Hook that Tim Omundson would make an excellent Hook and then I got to thinking about that curious line when Lassy answers the question, "Could you place a value on your own father?" with "375 thousand," and I came up with this. Hopefully this will grease the wheels a little on SOMETHING. More hopefully still it's just a two-shot. (Was going to be a one-shot, but it started getting way too long between start and conclusion, so I had to break it up. Sorry.)

* * *

 **Shanghaied**

The case was a series of disappearances, the victims last seen down by the docks. Shawn was on vacation with Gus in Tijuana, so Lassiter was pleased to have the case all to himself and his partner. He and O'Hara went down to the docks to search for leads and met up very soon with Henry Spencer, who was almost always there on his boat.

"Hey, Henry," Juliet said.

"Hey, cops," Henry called back. "You here for them guys that vanished?"

"Yeah," Lassiter said. "Looking for anything we can find out. I know if you'd seen anything in particular you'd have told us already, but was there anything suspicious at all you've seen? Just something minor?"

Henry took off his ball cap and scratched the top of his head briefly, then put his cap back on. "Absolutely nothing, and it pisses me off, because that last guy? Pretty much disappeared right in front of me. I don't know what the hell's going on."

"Huh," Lassiter said, and O'Hara looked up at him. She couldn't quite identify his expression. Thoughtful, yes, but also… nervous? Apprehensive? What was that look, exactly?

"Carlton, what's wrong?" she asked him. "Did you figure something out?"

He shook his head. "No. No, just… I don't know. A passing thought. Nothing important. Let's keep looking. Thanks, Henry."

They continued from one end of the docks to the other, speaking to everyone they could and finding nothing whatsoever out about their disappearances. That curious look settled more and more firmly on Lassiter's face, and Juliet was growing ever more concerned about it. Finally she stopped and stared him down. That he let her spoke to just how badly he felt.

"What is _wrong?"_ she demanded.

"It's nothing, really," he said, but she knew he was lying.

"Carlton. What is it?"

"I just… don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere near here right now. I don't want to be anywhere near Santa Barbara."

"What? Why not? Carlton, what do you know?"

He shrugged. "I don't know anything. I just suspect. And if I tell you what I suspect you'll think I'm crazy."

"Carlton," she said, smiling brightly. _"Everybody_ thinks you're crazy. It's no big deal. Just tell me what you're thinking."

He sighed deeply, his remarkable blue eyes closed briefly before opening again to look at her. "I think these people are getting shanghaied."

"Erm… what?"

"Shanghaied. Forced into service on a ship."

"Uh… okay, yeah, I've heard of that. But… do they still do that? I kind of thought that went out with, um… I don't know, the invention of the airplane, maybe."

"There's at least… one ship on the sea today… that would still do that I think…"

Juliet turned to face him directly. "Carlton. What do you know?"

"I can't… tell you. You'll really think I'm crazy and no joke."

"Well, if… sailors are running up behind these guys and… knocking them on the head and carrying them off to a waiting ship, _someone_ has to have seen them, right?" Juliet said.

Lassiter shook his head. "Not the sailors I'm thinking of."

"You know I don't want to say this, Carlton, but you are kind of starting to _sound_ a little crazy."

"I know. But believe me, if it's who I think, no one will have seen anything."

"Well, we… have to keep looking, Carlton, don't we? There's no way to prove just now that you're right, after all."

He took a few hard, shallow breaths, and then visibly calmed. "You're right. I don't like it, but you're right. It's just… I don't see any reason for them to be here specifically except… maybe… to mess with me or Mom or Lauren. And I don't want that to happen. Although if they mess with Mom maybe they deserve what they get."

"Who is 'them'?" Juliet demanded.

"I can't tell you," Lassiter said in a very small voice. "You'd _never_ believe me."

Juliet threw up her hands in surrender and led the way back to the other end of the dock, being rather aggressive with potential witnesses along the way. Lassiter followed meekly and under the bright Santa Barbara sun, with the cool ocean breeze blowing in her hair, she slowly calmed down. She was feeling pretty damned good, really, when all of a sudden the lights… went… out.

-…-…-…-

She had a _lump_ on the back of her head, and the spot was tender, painful. Someone had _hit_ her on the _head._ Someone was going to _die._

She felt for her gun. Her holster was empty. Damn. She looked around. She was in a large, dark space, made of wood, and it was… rocking, gently, to and fro. To her left, thankfully, she saw Carlton, still unconscious. She crawled to his side and shook him by the arm.

"Carlton. Carlton, get up. Come on, partner, wake up. Wake up, come on."

He blinked, his eyes rolled up in his head, then he shook his head and blinked some more. "That's right, partner, come on, wake up," Juliet said again. Carlton raised a hand to his head and groaned.

"Oh God… I really need some Excedrin."

"Somebody knocked us out, Carlton," she said. "In broad daylight they knocked us out! And I think you were right. I think we're on a ship."

He looked around, then his expression turned enraged and he struggled to his feet. "Yes, we're on a ship," he said, and his voice was that quiet voice that spoke of real danger. It rose in volume steadily as he continued to speak. "We're on _the_ ship. The _Jolly_ frickin' _Roger."_

"The _Jolly Roger?_ Wait, isn't that… Captain Hook's ship?"

He shot her a look. "It is."

She shot _him_ a look. "We're on Captain Hook's ship."

"We are on… my _father's_ … ship… Detective O'Hara… and now you know why I didn't want to say anything."

"Oh, so your father named his ship after Captain Hook's ship," Juliet said, relieved.

"No. My father _is_ Captain Hook. Captain James Hook, though he prefers to go by 'Jas'."

Juliet stared at him, open-mouthed, for a long while, and then she burst out laughing. "No, really, Carlton, where are we?"

"Told you you wouldn't believe me," he said, "but I expect you're going to meet him soon, so you'd better get it under control. He doesn't like to be laughed at, to say the least. A quick pointer: don't shake his hand. If you really think you have to, offer him your left."

"If your father's name is 'Hook' why is your name 'Lassiter'?" Juliet asked. He gave her a look.

"Is it really so hard to figure? For one thing, it's not really a creditable last name, is it? For another, he and my mother _never actually married_. They lived together from the time I was conceived 'til I was about thirteen, but they weren't married by anything other than Common Law. I'm a bastard! For which I bear no ill will whatsoever. If he _had_ married my mother, I'd _still_ go by her maiden name."

"You know, I saw that movie when it came out, the live-action _Peter Pan_ , with Jason Isaacs as Captain Hook. That was good," Juliet said. "They made it so his eyes turned red before he killed someone. Is that true? I never read the book and I don't remember it in any of the other movies or the stage play."

"Yes, it's true, but I don't know if it was in the book, either. I would venture to guess whoever was responsible for that movie just realized on their own that _Dad_ was just that damned evil."

"Well, it explains why _your_ eyes turn red before you start yelling at the squad or at Shawn."

" _What?_ They don't, do they? Tell me you're kidding." He looked absolutely panicked.

She raised her hands to steady him. "I am kidding, Carlton. I've never seen it. Not yet, anyway."

He closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. "You never will. I'm not like that. Not even a little."

"You do have a hell of a temper," she said.

" _No! It's not the same!"_

Above them, a hatch opened, and a roly-poly little man in a red headscarf with heavy white sideburns and a thick white beard came rolling bowlegged down the stairs, whistling what sounded like an old sea chantey. "Thought I could hear ye was awake down 'ere," he said, with a bit of a laugh.

"Ah, Mister Smee," Carlton said, freezingly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against a post.

"Aye! Ye remembers me!" the man said, clapping his hands together in glee. "Wasn't sure ye would. Ain't seen ya since ye been knee-high to a cuttlefish, I ain't. Ye were a cute one, ye was, scurryin' about the decks a-lookin' like the Captain in miniature, gettin' inta everythin'."

"Yeah. Great memories," Carlton said, sarcastically. "Running around on board a _pirate_ ship, surrounded by the dregs of humanity."

"You'd look just like yer father now, if yer skin wa'ant so dark an' yer hair wa'ant so short."

Juliet, who thought Carlton was really very pale for a native Santa Barbaran, wondered exactly what the little man was talking about. And had Carlton actually called him… _Smee?_

"Anyways, you an' the lady is wanted aboard decks," "Smee" said. "I've come to fetch ye, I has. Come on, then. Up ye get."

The little man chivvied them up the stairs and onto the deck above, where they found themselves surrounded by men. Filthy men, wearing filthy clothes and looking diseased. Juliet stayed close to Carlton's side, as if he could keep her from catching whatever these men had.

The men stared at them, ogling Juliet in particular. Leering at her. Carlton tried to shield her from their eyes as best he could. Then something knocked against the planks, and the men shifted to clear a path in front of a door below the quarterdeck. The door opened, and…

It was Captain Hook, no doubt about it. Or at least a really, really good facsimile. And, somehow terrifyingly, it was also Carlton. The same face, the same eyes, the same dark slash of relatively heavy eyebrows, even the same crooked nose. He didn't look any older, either. In truth, the only differences she could see were in dress - the Captain wore what you might expect, a jacket and waistcoat with lace and gold piping and a large tricorn feathered hat - and in the fact that the Captain was pale as death and wore his curly hair shoulder length and had a goatee and moustache. Otherwise, yeah… strong family resemblance to say the least.

Carlton breathed heavily again as across the deck his father smiled a most sinister smile at them. Then he said, "Hey Pop. Eaten by any crocodiles lately?"

The mates laughed, but only for a very short while until they clapped their hands over their mouths in perfect unison and cast nervous eyes at their Captain. Hook just smiled a little broader and said, "You always were a smartass, my boy."

Lassiter reached behind himself and took Juliet's hand. He squeezed it, and the mates saw and said "Aww," and nudged each other, and then Lassiter let go and grabbed the gun hidden away at the small of his back. He pointed it directly at his father. Around them, instantly, the mates drew cutlasses and flintlock pistols.

"I told you to _search_ him, you idiots," Hook said. "He always has more than one weapon."

Carlton's father smiled at him again. "Do you think you have enough bullets in that thing to take us all on?" he said, with a nod at the gun.

"No," Lassiter said, "but I've got more than enough to take care of _you."_

"Ye've grown into a feisty li'tle devil, ain't ye?" Smee said, and then he grabbed Juliet by the arm and yanked her away from Lassiter. He put his cutlass to her throat. "You might wanna be puttin' that gun down, though."

"Mister Smee, you're a gutless coward, you know that," Lassiter said.

"Aye, I am. I don't make no bones about it," Smee said, laughing again. "But I'll tell ya true, lad - I'm a sight more afraid o' the Captain than I be a' you, an' that's the hones' truth."

Lassiter closed his eyes, clicked the safety on the gun, lowered his aim and knelt down to slide the pistol across the deck to his father's feet. He stood up with his hands raised in surrender. "All right. Now let my partner go."

"Smee," Hook said, and the little man released Juliet at once.

Lassiter sighed heavily. "What do you want with us?" he said.

Hook took a few steps closer. "Absolutely nothing, my boy," he said.

"Then take us home," Carlton said.

"I _am_ taking you home," Hook said, innocently.

"We _were_ home," Juliet chimed in. "You never had to take us anywhere."

"He means he's taking us to _his_ home," Lassiter said over his shoulder. "The Neverland."

"What? You mean it… it _exists?"_

"What, you thought Captain Hook does and the Neverland doesn't?"

"I thought _this_ was some kind of weird game of dress-up."

Hook came right up to them and doffed his hat. "Miss O'Hara. Pleasure to meet you," he said, with a bow.

"Um, Captain," she said, and offered her hand. Carlton spoke urgently out the side of his mouth.

"Left hand. _Left hand."_

"The right hand perfectly suffices," Hook said, tucking his hat under his right arm. "What, you did not think I was going to _shake_ with her, did you, my son? You don't _shake_ with a lady. What are you thinking?" He reached out with his left, took Juliet's hand, turned it, and kissed her fingers. He released her hand and looked at his son again. "I thought I taught you the basic principles of good form."

"I did my best to forget _everything_ you taught me."

Hook plucked his hat out from under his arm and situated it on his head again, then reached out with his right hand - which, Juliet could now see, did indeed end in a great, blade-like iron hook - and placed it under Carlton's chin to lift his face.

"What did I do to deserve this disapprobation?" he said. "I taught you, I raised you, I cared for you, I took you on adventures another boy could only dream of. You seemed to appreciate it at the time. Why so unhappy with me now?"

The expression on Lassiter's face could only be described as half smile, half scowl. "If my mouth weren't so dry, I'd spit in your face," he said.

"But why?" Hook persisted. "I don't think I'm being too egotistical when I say you loved me back _then."_

"That was when I was still a stupid little kid, and long before I realized that you were anything but a hero."

Juliet tapped Carlton on the shoulder. "Is your father being English the reason why you only claim to be Irish?" she asked, very quietly.

"Yes," he said back, not so quietly. Hook smiled, a far less sinister smile than any he had smiled previously.

"That's just fine, because I only claim my Irish ancestry as well, despite having been raised by my English relations," he said.

Carlton stood stock still for a moment, then turned to Juliet with a huge grin on his face. "Guess what, O'Hara? Turns out I'm English!"

Hook hooked his hook under the collar of Lassiter's shirt, and held it so the blunt edge was against the skin of his chest. He then pulled it down, popping the buttons off Carlton's shirt one by one as he said, "You know, any man on my crew who spoke to me like that would find my hook in his gullet immediately. 'Tis fortunate you are that you're flesh of my flesh."

"Why should that stop you?" Lassiter said. Juliet winced.

Hook pulled his hook out of Lassiter's shirt and put the point up next to Lassiter's eye. _"Because_ , you silly-pated child, _I_ … _**love**_ … _you."_

The mates gasped at the bald-faced admission. Clearly they'd never heard such a thing from their captain before. "You're not capable of it," Lassiter said with a sneer.

"Will you stop _trying_ to get yourself killed?" Juliet hissed. "If this _really is_ Captain Hook then I don't think he has much compunction about killing people under ordinary circumstances."

"You should listen to your lady, my son," Hook said. "Who knows but that my patience _doesn't_ have its limits where you're concerned? You are, after all, not nearly as cute as you were when you were but a child. Though I have to say, you are a handsome devil."

"I didn't know I looked so much like you," Lassiter said. "I guess this means I'll have to undergo reconstructive facial surgery when I make it back to Santa Barbara."

"You know, _she_ is no relation to me whatsoever," Hook said, with a nod toward Juliet. "Perhaps I'll just have _her_ killed."

"If you or any of your crew lays so much as a _finger_ on her not a man here nor your fucking _hook_ will be able to stop me from tearing your ass apart piece by piece, and I will enjoy every second of it," Lassiter said, glowering.

"Carlton, just calm down," Juliet said, tugging at his jacket. "You have to realize, we're kind of outnumbered here. Just… calm down."

He turned to her and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace the same way he did at the top of the clock tower. This time was a little different because Juliet wasn't crying, and because his shirt was cut wide open, meaning her face was pressed against his bare chest. She found she didn't much mind, for some reason.

"They're not going to hurt you," he said. "I won't let 'em."

"Oh, that is lovely," Hook said. "Yes, quite touching. I rather thought you'd be that way together. That's why I had the boys bring her along. There's no sense in depriving you of the closest relationship you've ever had, now is there? Boys?"

The men snapped to attention. "Aye, Cap'n?" they chorused.

"The lady is off-limits. In all ways. Lay a finger on her, and you die."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Back to your duties, scugs. Let these two stroll about the decks if they wish. I'm sure they need to get their sea legs. Leave them alone. If they want to go below, Mister Smee, show them to the First Mate's cabin. I shall be in mine."

Hook disappeared back inside, and the mates all scattered to their own special spheres. Lassiter held tight to Juliet for a moment or two longer, then let her go and backed away. He shoved his fists in the pockets of his slacks and turned and headed for the bowsprit with his shoulders hunched. He stood there in the bow with his head hanging and his hands on the gunnels, the picture of dejection. Juliet went up to him, trying not to stagger as the deck pitched beneath her feet.

"Spread your legs and bend your knees a little," Lassiter said over his shoulder. "Sailors are bowlegged to a purpose."

Juliet tried it, feeling only a little stupid, and it did seem to keep her a bit steadier. She came up to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Want to reenact that scene from _Titanic?"_ she asked, trying to make light of the situation.

"Um… no," he said, not trying to make light of anything at all.

"Oh, come on, Carlton. Your father said he doesn't want to kill us. I don't know about you, but I consider that good news."

"And you trust the word of a pirate?"

"Well no, but he is also your _father._ I figure that makes him a _little_ more trustworthy."

He shook his head. "Yeah. Don't count on it, O'Hara."

"You do have quite the problem with him, don't you?" Juliet said. "Is that because he's a pirate, and he's done horrible things…? Or is it because he did horrible things to you when you were a child…? Or is it just because he left you?"

He sighed and shook his head again. "Dad… never did horrible things to me, all right? Never. And I know you wouldn't have even asked that if you hadn't already _known_ he didn't. Truth is, he was a better parent to me than Mom was. Mom was… she… well, she… put me down, all the time, about everything. Said I'd never be any good, never get anything right. Dad was just the opposite. Always built me up, tried to convince me I could do anything."

"So he was a good father," Juliet said.

"He's a good _liar,"_ Lassiter snapped back.

"Why do you think he lied to you? He couldn't possibly love his own son?"

"He's Captain Hook. He's everything Peter Pan isn't. Pan is Joy, Laughter, Goodness. Hook is what, now? Misery, Despair, and Evil."

"Are you sure he's not just a man?" Juliet asked quietly.

"His _eyes_ turn red."

"Yeah, okay. That is kind of freaky. But nevertheless, I think you gotta give him a chance, here. He's your _Dad."_

"And a _murderer._ You're not going to argue with me on _that,_ are you?"

"Well, now, no - but have you ever _seen_ him do it? Can you _prove_ he's ever really done it? Or does he just _say_ it? Like he's trying to present an image to you?"

" _I_ can't prove _anything,_ O'Hara, but I'm sure these pirates aboard his ship could bear testimony to _plenty._ You see how they just _snap_ to his every least word. They're terrified of him."

"When you told that museum director that your father was worth three hundred and seventy-five thousand," Juliet said, "that was the reward on his head, wasn't it?"

He took a deep breath. "That's the modern value of the original reward on his head, in pounds because I don't know how to convert it into American dollars. But _that_ was the reward when he was still Captain James Winchester, and _that_ … was three hundred years ago. Nobody's looking anymore."

"Three _hundred_ years?"

"You didn't seem to find it at all hard to believe he was alive when J.M. Barrie wrote about him way back in the day. Is this really any harder to believe? At any rate, he was born in 1669. He _would_ be three hundred years older than me, but his birthday's in November. Or at least, he always said it was."

"Oh. Okay." Juliet looked out to sea for awhile, sticking close by Carlton's arm. Then she said, "The hair. Is it real, or… you know, like in _Hook,_ with Dustin Hoffman. A wig?"

"I never saw _Hook,_ or the Disney movie, or the one you talked about with that Lucius Malfoy guy, or that new one and I won't, and I never read the book or saw the stage play. I'm sure it was all great stuff, but it all ended with my Dad getting eaten or at least chased off by a crocodile. Not something I ever really wanted to see. Not even now. Anyway, the hair - I don't know if it's real or not, but if it's a wig it's a damn good one, and he never takes it off, ever."

"How did he survive the crocodile?" Juliet asked.

"I never felt it prudent to ask. Apparently it is a true story, but I don't know how he got away."

"Why, the same way all we swabs get away whene'er th' Cap'n hooks us," Smee laughed, wheezing, from behind them nearby. They spun around to face him. "No one dies forever in the Neverland," Smee said, with a shrug. "Give it a few days maybe, ye'll be back, right as rain like ye never left."

"What do you mean?" Juliet asked.

"Well, see, it's like this: Cap'n wants us disciplined, use't be 'e'd give us a floggin' t' set us straight. Worked a charm, it did, but really beat a mate up. Not pretty at all. Once we found out that death weren't forever in the Neverland, Cap'n started givin' us the 'ook instead. You can bet yer buttons it 'urts, a'right; ain't no matey wants it to happen to 'em. But a couple hours later yer jus' fine an' swabbin' the decks again. Gettin' eaten by a crocodile was a li'tle bit more complicated a proposition, but two days later we seen the crocodile pitchin' a hellacious fit right on shore, and 'oo should cut 'is way out a' its stomach but the Cap'n! Crocodile's alive again, too. Nothin' dies forever in the Neverland."

"So you mean to say that Captain Hook doesn't really kill anyone?" Juliet said, looking at Lassiter triumphantly.

"Oh, 'e does," Smee said comfortably. "Kills us all the time, 'e does. It jus' don't stick, it don't. Like whene'er Pan kills Cap'n."

"If they know they can't kill each other, then why do they fight?" Juliet asked.

"Aw, somefing to do, ain't it?" Smee said. "The Neverland was where we hid up, from the authorities like. The East India Company an' all that rot. We didn't know for a long time that it was a place time di'n't touch, we jus' knew it was borin' as hell, not just for us but for Pan, too. Him bein' a boy an' all, he half the time wanted to _be_ a pirate, an' the rest a' the time wanted to _fight_ the pirates. Cap'n let 'im do what 'e wanted to do. It was almos' as en'ertainin' fer us as it was fer Pan. Sometimes the kid took it too seriously, though. Not that Cap'n ever tol' 'im off fer it."

"Wait a minute - didn't… Peter Pan… cut off… Captain Hook's hand?" Juliet asked, cautiously.

"Oh, that were an accident. The crocodile's fault, really. They was fencin' near the water's edge and the crocodile come up and growled at 'em and they both startled and Pan's sword went too far. Poor kid was totally thunderstruck. He stared at that hand, at that bloody stump, an' he reached down an' picked it up, looked at it, gave an almighty screech, an' tossed it away - right inta the jaws a' the crocodile; _snap snap!_ But that Barrie chap got it all wrong when he said Cap'n ever _blamed_ poor Peter for that. Never cried out, 'e di'n't, did the Cap'n. White as a ghost, but dead quiet all the while 'e was tryin' t' stop the bleedin'. Then 'e looks up an' sees how bloody upset Peter was, an' 'e jus' puts 'is other arm around him and says 'It's alright. You di'n't do nothin' wrong.' Cap'n weren't never really out to _get_ Peter, not fer real. He jus' liked to put a li'tle scare in the kid, an' all the Los' Boys, too - 'cause the kiddies _liked_ it that way."

Juliet nudged Lassiter in the side. "Are you hearing this, Carlton?"

"I'm hearing a _pirate_ say a lot of stuff which is probably lies."

"Aw, now, laddie, what makes ye think it's lies?" Smee asked, reproachfully. "'E were good to _you,_ weren't he?"

Carlton didn't seem to have an answer for that, and lowered himself into a seat on a nearby tar barrel.

"Anyway, I didn't come up 'ere to be a-jawin' atcha's," Smee said. "Just come up t' tell ya's, 'tis almost dinner time. Cap'n wants ye eatin' with 'im in 'is cabin. When the sun says it's six o' the clock," Smee said, with a smile. "Ye remember how t' tell time by the sun, don't ye, boy? No proper functioning watches aboard this ship, ha-ha. That's why we had t' leave yer watch and both a' yer phones behind us. They 'ave clocks on 'em. Cap'n don't like clocks. Ye un'erstand."

Smee turned to head back to wherever he came from, but Juliet reached out to stop him. "Please, wait - what about those people who disappeared? I'm assuming you…shanghaied them. Where are they now?"

"Oh, we put 'em back ashore once we 'ad the two a' you," Smee said. "They was just t' lure ye out t' the docks. Easier t' get ye there than to have t' chase ye all 'round the city."

"Oh. Charming," Juliet said, smiling a bit frozenly. "So this was all just to get to the two of us. Am I just extra baggage or was the plan to pick me up too, all along?"

"Oh yeah, ye were part a' the plan. Like Cap'n said, no need to separate the two a' you, not when ye's so close, like." Smee patted her companionably on the shoulder and headed on his way.

Juliet pulled up a tar barrel next to Lassiter and sat down beside him. She was subdued now, no longer sure what to think, but she tried very hard to brighten and look at the positives, as always.

"Well, we're… on our way to the Neverland. Who hasn't wanted to go to the Neverland?" she said cheerfully.

"I've been there. It not all that," Carlton said.

"You've met Peter Pan and the Lost Boys?"

"Yeah. Pan is annoying. They all are, but especially Pan. He's like… Spencer on amphetamines."

"How old were you last time you were there?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I think I was… _nine_ when Dad took me. I did appreciate getting away from Mom for a little while."

"Don't you think it'll be nice to see it again? Like a vacation?"

"An unauthorized vacation kidnapped aboard a pirate ship. Yeah, great."

"Oh come on, Carlton, look at the positives."

"I don't see any."

She hugged his arm, cuddling close against him. "We're together. That's a good thing, right?" she said. He was completely unable to reply.

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of _Psych_ and its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other Psych-Os like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

 **Rating:** T+

 **Spoilers:** Few, but possible at any point through entire series

 **A/N:** Damn, now it's a three-shot.

* * *

 **Shanghaied, pt. 2**

The Captain's cabin was spacious, dimly lit, and elegantly appointed, with furniture Juliet was certain was genuine Louis XIV - or was it XVI? Whichever was better known for his furniture than for his beheading. Or was XIV beheaded at all? Carlton was the history buff and Juliet only watched _Antiques Roadshow-_ type shows everyonce in awhile. Oh, who cares. There were also several large chests overflowing with gold and jewels. Whatever kind of pirate Lassiter's father was in truth, there was clearly good money in it.

Hook was standing at the head of a small dining table, set with four chairs and three place settings, one to Hook's left and the other across the way. Hook gestured to the seat across the table. "My son?" he said, and then, "Miss O'Hara, would you do me the honor of allowing me to seat you?" He stepped to the left-hand chair and pulled it out. She winced at the mark his hook surely left in the finish. Still, she stepped around as daintily as possible and allowed him to seat her. Whether he was a good guy or as evil as Barrie had implied he was, no sense pissing him off.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "It's Louis XIV, dear. I'm fairly sure that Louis XVI did _also_ have his own special era of fancy furnishings before they lopped his head off, but I think they called that 'Baroque,' didn't they? I'm no great student of such things myself. I just know I thought they were ugly as anything."

"How did you know I was -"

"The look of awe changing to speculation changing to confusion changing to 'oh, what matter.' I get the same look whenever I'm in a position to determine whether something is a Mac or a PC. All I really know is that I'll never be able to figure out how either of them works. Witchcraft, I suspect."

"Well, uh, I can't say I really know how they work, either, but electricity plays a big part," Juliet said. Hook chuckled.

"I don't even understand electricity. By the time Benjamin Franklin flew that kite in the thunderstorm I was in the Neverland, and let's not get started on Edison _. All_ those years I lived in Santa Barbara, flipping a switch and getting light - _scared the living hell out of me._ I know there is some form of science behind it, but it looks like witchcraft to me."

Carlton sat down at the end of the table, with a half suspicious, half disinterested look for his father. In truth, he looked a little weary, as though a great deal of the fight had been taken out of him. He looked down at his plate in seeming defeat.

"What's the matter, my boy? All out of defiant comments?" Hook said.

Carlton just sighed and closed his eyes.

Juliet looked down at her own plate to take in the feast she had seen spread out on the table. Crab legs, lobster tail, shrimp scampi, and some kind of flaky white fish were the main entrees. Hook caught her wide-eyed expression.

"I told my chef to make me proud," he said. "I think he went a little overboard, but nothing wrong with a bit of excess, now is there?"

"You have a chef on board a pirate ship?" Juliet said.

"Pierre," Carlton muttered.

"Indeed," Hook said. "Spoils of victory from a French merchant ship long ago. Why _they_ felt the need for a proper chef I'll never know, but there's no reason why _I_ can't benefit from their gross outrageousness."

"What did you do to the ship?" Juliet asked, cautiously.

"Sent it back to France minus one chef and the several hundred pounds of sugar and tobacco it was bringing back from the West Indies." He smiled widely at her. "I'm not as evil as I was written to be, but I'm still a pirate, my lady. At the most basic that means I am, at best, a thief. As a woman who has dedicated her life to the pursuit of justice, you should be every bit as disapproving of me as is my son."

She drew herself up and placed a hand on Carlton's arm. "Well, I'm… very fond of your son, so I'm willing to stretch a point in your favor, Captain. And, well… my dad is a little bit of a pirate, too."

Hook nodded. "Ah, yes. Frank O'Hara. I remember him. I would say something condescending but I am no better at all. It's been thirty-three years since I had any interaction with my son. In my defense it's hard to keep track of time on the Neverland. Years slip by unheeded, even if you're watching your own child grow into a man before you."

"How do you know about my father?" Juliet asked.

"I've been keeping an eye on Carlton from a distance," he said. "That has meant, for the past few years, keeping a bit of an eye on you, as enmeshed in his life as you've become. Oh. I have something for you, my dear. I nearly forgot." He reached down into one of those jewel-filled chests and came up with a necklace: a brilliant, thick woven platinum chain. "I'm not particularly skilled, ever since I lost my hand, at the fine art of helping a woman on with a new necklace, but I'm certain my son can accommodate you. Carlton?"

Carlton stood up and cross over to take the necklace from his father's hand wordlessly. He stood behind Juliet and allowed her to fluff her hair out of the way, then put the necklace around her throat and fastened it. She felt his fingers briefly brush against the soft skin at the back of her neck and shivered impulsively. She looked down to see how the necklace looked and realized there was a pendant, which Hook had held hidden in his hand. A large, round platinum pendant with a large deep blue lapis cabochon on which a mother of pearl crescent moon was inlaid and a few brightly shining platinum stars. She stroked the surface with two fingers and thought about it for a moment.

"Second star to the right," she said, once she was sure she had it figured, "and straight on 'til morning. Is that right?"

"Precisely, my dear. I knew you'd get it."

"Are we _really_ going to the Neverland?" she asked. "I mean, _really?"_

"That's the course we've laid."

"Well, I… hope I get to meet Princess Tiger Lily. And Tinkerbell, of course, though… I suppose she's a package deal with Peter Pan. I don't really care to meet him."

"Not always," Hook said. "You don't want to meet Peter?"

She let out a heavy breath. "No. He's always… annoyed me. I know he's supposed to be 'light and laughter and love and joy,' but to me he's always been just… irritating. A little boy who never grows out of the arrogance and immaturity."

"My dear…" Hook said. "If that's the way you feel about Pan, then what on _Earth_ are you doing dating that Spencer fellow? He's exactly the same, except his testicles have dropped - presumably - and he lies a very great deal more than Peter. You could call _him_ a kind of pirate. The same kind of pirate as your father."

Carlton grunted agreement over a crab leg. Juliet stared down at her shrimp scampi.

"I'm sorry my dear, it's none of my business of course," Hook said, patting her hand gently. "What matters is how he is towards you, not how he is towards everyone else. If he makes you happy then it's a good relationship."

"Yeah, I've been watching it from a way closer perspective, Pops, and I ain't seen happy," Carlton grumbled under his breath. "I've seen frustrated, peeved, pissed, exasperated, weary, and resigned. I ain't seen happy more than once in a great while and only for a moment or two. Usually when he first walks into the room and it's gone in a heartbeat shortly after he opens his mouth."

"Oh, that can't be true, my son," Hook said. "If it were, surely the relationship would already be over. Miss O'Hara is far too sensible and her own woman to remain in a relationship that makes her _unhappy. Aren't_ you, my dear?"

Juliet forked up a bite of whitefish and said nothing.

"All right then, change of subject. Carlton, I can see questions buzzing around your head, why don't you ask them?" Hook said.

"Okay, then. You said you wanted absolutely nothing from us. So why then are we here? Just to have dinner with you?"

"You are here because I am a wicked, selfish bastard. I wanted to spend some time with my son at long, long last. There never seemed to be a good time to do it. You were always at school, and then you were married, and then the all-consuming job… Finally I just said to hell with it."

"You disappeared… without a word… when I was thirteen and _now_ … you wanna spend _time_ with me?"

"I know, and I am sorry about that. I should have said goodbye at the very least, but…" Hook sighed. "I always did have trouble with such things and I, I thought I wouldn't be gone out of your life anywhere near so long. My intention was to see you regularly, but… well, I won't try to justify myself."

"You left before Lauren was born, and you only came back for _me._ Is there a problem with Lauren? Her gender perhaps? Can't stand to think you don't produce all male offspring, Mr. Seventeenth Century?"

"I would have _loved_ to have a daughter. Lauren is, I am sure, a lovely young woman, and I do not hold her remotely responsible for how things are, but… she is not my daughter."

"What are you saying?" Carlton asked, after spending a long moment just staring.

Hook shook his head. "I will not say anything negative about your mother," he said. "But I should think the implication is clear. Lauren is not my daughter. I might well have _raised_ her as such regardless, but your mother preferred that I left the family. She had not admitted it to herself as of that time, but I believe she was well on her way to the discovery of her true sexual orientation. It took her down different paths along the way."

Carlton picked up a crab leg and snapped it in half with his fingers.

After dinner, which lasted a few hours, Juliet and Lassiter went to the decks to watch the sun set. Then Smee led them to the First Mate's cabin below decks, which would be their… "home" while aboard. Though it was nicer than any other accommodation aboard ship aside from the Captain's cabin, it was a small space, and there was, naturally, only one bunk. Rather a small one. Carlton saw it, turned around, and made for the door. Juliet stopped him.

"Carlton. We've been just as close on stakeout. It'll be fine."

He looked at the narrow little bunk and shuddered from head to hips.

"Well, I'm sorry that the idea of sleeping next to me, fully-dressed, repulses you so," Juliet said, with a bit of a huff.

"No, no, it's not… it's just… not… appropriate."

"Bad form?" she said, smiling. "Like I said, Carlton, we've been just as close on stakeout."

He shuddered again, just his head and shoulders this time, and approached.

"You climb in first, please," Juliet said. "I know that makes me liable to fall out, but I'd rather do that than get crushed between you and the wall if the ship rocks hard."

He kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed and situated himself on his side as close to the wall as he could, facing it. Juliet climbed in after, after kicking off her heels, and situated herself facing out, but not too close to the edge. Close, in fact, to Carlton's back. After awhile, she leaned back on him.

"You know, I think it would be a little roomier, and a little safer, maybe, if you raised your arm," she said.

Hesitantly, he got up off his left arm and raised it over his head. "Your other arm," Juliet said, patiently. He tucked his left back under him and raised his right arm instead. Juliet leaned closer onto him and he began to lean back toward her, and his arm just kind of went naturally around her shoulders. "Much better," Juliet said comfortably.

They slept rather well, all things considered, and were wakened early by a knock on the door. "You folks might want to see this," Smee said through the closed portal. "We're comin' up on the island now, with the sunrise right behind it."

Juliet sat up, startled wide awake. "Wait a minute," she said. "The Neverland was… in the Atlantic, right? We're in the Pacific. How could we be there already?"

"The Neverland is wherever you are," Carlton said, sleepily. "London, Paris, New York, St. Petersburg, frickin' Omaha, Santa Barbara… Second star to the right of the moon and straight on 'til morning and you'll find it, no matter what hour of the day you start your journey or how fast you're traveling, whether you're in a ship, a car, on foot, or in an airplane. It's just easiest in a ship, because… well… there aren't very many obstacles on the ocean aside from other ships."

"What about an airplane?" Juliet asked.

"They've got to worry about mountains, and they don't typically navigate by the stars so they'd never find out they have the ability."

"Wait a minute - what about the fact that the moon doesn't stay in the same position all night long?" Juliet asked.

"I don't know. I've never actually tried to go to the Neverland on my own. You'd have to ask Dad. Or Mister Smee. Or… um… oh, what's his name? Wentworth. The navigator. _Flight of the Navigator._ That was pretty much Lauren's favorite movie when she was little. Does that little nonsensical tidbit of information make me sound like Spencer?"

"A little," Juliet confirmed.

"Yeah, I'm… kind of frazzled."

"Well, let's go watch the sunrise over the Neverland. I'm kind of excited. Interesting how the sun could rise over the Neverland when we had to have been traveling more or less due _west,_ eh?"

"Not so. The moon rises to the east, just as the sun does. I don't know when we changed course, but most likely we still had to turn east."

"But… that would've taken us back to Santa Barbara," Juliet said, confused. "Or at least California."

Lassiter shook his head. "It's not normal navigation, O'Hara," he said. "Depending on where you're standing and when, that second star could take you north, south, east, or west. It doesn't matter where it should lead. The fact is, it leads to the Neverland, a semi-tropical island in the middle of an unknown ocean that's never been discovered by the wider world, whether you should be in the middle of the Pacific or the middle of frickin' Siberia. It's… it's…" He sighed in clear defeat. "It's magic."

"You… know about… and believe in… actual _magic_ … and you _don't_ believe in Shawn? How does that work?"

"I don't believe in Shawn because he's a liar," Carlton said. "He's very intelligent, and Henry taught him the fine arts of observation and deduction very well indeed. But the only difference between the two of them? Is that Junior has more hair and _lies about everything._ And consequently gets Henry - and Guster - to lie for him! He gets _you_ to lie for him, too! Like any good con artist, he has the people around him quite firmly in his grasp and can make them jump through any hoop."

"I do _not_ lie for him!" Juliet said, shocked and incensed.

"Yes you do, O'Hara. Every time you run a name for him, or help him onto a crime scene he shouldn't be on, or do anything he wants you to do under the table, you're lying for him. Hell, he even got me to do it once. That night I arrested that _creature_ Mindy Howland from Spencer and Guster's High School Reunion and I came in and Vick was giving you the stare-down about what you were doing at the station so late and I said you were helping me? I did that for _you_ , but because _you_ were lying for Spencer _I_ had to lie for the asshat too."

Juliet stood, stunned, realizing he was right, and Carlton stormed out of the cabin.

In a moment or two, she went to join him on the decks. She found him staring angrily off into the rising sun at the island ahead of them. She stood at the gunnels next to him and tried to find her voice. Carlton did before she did.

"I just… don't understand why you let him treat you the way he does," he said. "If you love him, if he treats you good, then hell, go off and be a grifter with him if you wanna be. But… he treats you like shit, O'Hara. When are you going to stand up for yourself with him? My God, you stood up for yourself against _me_ from day one."

"He doesn't treat me badly," she said, a little weakly.

"The hell he doesn't. I know he saves most of the denigration for me, but when it comes to the _professional_ humiliation he heaps it almost as high on your head as he does on mine. Does the Thane Woodson case ring any bells for you? Yeah, he comes to our defense, yours and mine, when we really, really need it, but the rest of the time he treats us like we couldn't possibly do our jobs without his oh-so-valuable assistance. And I know I've told you to shut it I don't know how many times in the past, and I'm sorry about that, but… God… when he said 'Silence, woman!' to you I wanted to _shoot_ him, despite that little apology he whispered in your ear later. And the way he feels obliged to spew your _highly_ personal relationship information to any and everyone. I can't believe _you_ haven't killed him."

"Wait, what?" Juliet said. "What's this about highly personal relationship information?"

"Well, you know - you heard what he said on that reality show he was undercover on, when he finally broke down and confessed to them that he had a girlfriend. And then there was that time he felt compelled to tell everyone within earshot that you and he were… were… following the… the… the book."

"What book?" she said, stiffly.

" _That_ book."

"The _Kama Sutra?"_

Lassiter blushed bright red and nodded.

Juliet let out a shaky breath. "Ohhhhh, that bastard. That ever-loving _bastard._ I am going to _kill_ him, and I'm going to have you help me smuggle the body onto your father's ship, and we're going to take him out into the middle of the Pacific and _dump_ him in the Mariana Trench."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Lassiter said. "I'm sure Dad would do it. Chain him to an anchor and make sure it goes all the way down to the Challenger Deep."

Juliet began pacing back and forth on the deck nearby, running her hands through her hair. "Oh, that _bastard_. If he had _anything_ going for him, we wouldn't… _Urrgghh!"_

She returned to the gunnels. "Well that does it. It's over. Just like that, I finally get what you've been trying to tell me all along, Carlton. He's a total… frickin'… dickweed. And I am _too damn good_ for him."

"Hear hear, O'Hara," Lassiter said, and held up a hand for a fist-bump, which she returned with a slightly sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry it took me so damn long to snap out of it."

Lassiter scratched the back of his head. "You didn't do anything wrong. He worked on you for years, and you just… wanted to try something different and… Spencer definitely is that."

She hugged herself to his arm. "I should have known better. I told him once that the best things are the things you have to work hardest for, but… that's not always true, is it? Sometimes working that hard for something… just means it isn't worth it."

Carlton laughed. "Tell me about it. If you want to know all about it, just look at my marriage. Took me a lot longer than you did to realize that one simple little truth."

Behind them, Smee sneaked into the Captain's cabin.

"It's 'appened, Cap'n," he said. "The Lady 'as come 'round to the opinion that that Spencer bloke ain't worth all the trouble she was takin' with 'im."

Hook smiled. "Excellent, Smee. I knew it would happen sooner or later. She just needed perhaps a little push from an objective third party for Carlton's words to finally find her ear."

"What're we gonna do now, Cap'n?"

"Just wait, Smee. It either will or will not happen on its own. Somehow, I rather think it will. Particularly since I won't be taking them _back_ to Santa Barbara until it does."

 **TBC**


End file.
